I am a Patient. And I Matter

It always astounds me how very much I WALK in the convergence of patient-ness and me-ness. Even when I don't mean to or want to - I AM a patient. Thus the realities of being "one who suffers" crash home all to often.

It happened for me when my marriage broke down and I ached for it not to, yet I did not know how to stop it. I was so sick at the time YET I DID NOT KNOW HOW TO DO BETTER. I DID NOT KNOW HOW TO BE A BETTER PATIENT. Like a machine I could cite the research indicating how certain patients lose up to 80% of their friends and many marriages end in divorce - (even mine)! Even knowing the data didn't stop it. I COULDN'T STOP IT. It wasn't even self-fulfilling. It just happened.

It is like knowing a tidal wave was coming and being unable do anything but watch it move over the roof of your house and cling to what you love, and watch it wash out to sea anyway. That is what illness is sometimes. It is watching your life float away just out of reach and everyone around you alternately asking you for money to help you or leaving you because you are too much of a victim or sometimes, just sometimes, you can "inspire" people with a message if you are "strong enough"- BUT AT WHAT COST? AT what cost?

Even now I feel a sense of looking into an abyss when it comes to romance - as though it will never happen for me (again). As though I had my shot at family and connection and building it again is laughable at best. Though I trudge on because I know I am worth it - and I know I must at least have a profession and LOVE MYSELF. And so I AM.

I watched even the other day during a lumbar puncture - how I reacted to discomfort and pain. In one fMRI study they found that men and women reacted differently. Men tended to (when put in pain, close down emotionally and women reach out - and their very brain structures change). I made note of this but never considered it until NOW. The other day during my spinal tap I was feeling very alone. It was a routine outpatient process and I was very much "invisible." I said, "This is very uncomfortable." And the doctor asked me, "What are you feeling?" I told him I could feel the needle and that it was unpleasant. He put more numbing there and continued. But he got paged and was upset and began grumbling. And I said, "Don't get upset while you are working on me. It is not TIME for that. STAY WITH ME. Be with me right now."

I was reaching out and reminding him THAT I WAS THERE. I didn't mean to. I realize now that I was simply so alone in the discomfort and I didn't want him messing up out of being angry or over burdened. And I said, "I don't want to be alone in this." Nothing more was said. Of course - doctors like that are not overly compassionate. But I realize NOW that I was doing EXACTLY what research shows women do when they are in pain. They reach out. They seek connection with their environment. We are the sum of all our parts. And though I have tried to live as best as I could the entire time. Looking back - often I am very much a "typical patient" in that I reflect exactly what the research indicates. This astounds me. It really does.

In sociology, we talk about people who go through a great tragedy, like job loss or illness, we can watch what happens to OTHERS and see that it is a social problem and say that it is too bad and shouldn't happen. But when it happens TO US, we tend to self-blame, and hold ourselves accountable and to a higher standard than we would other people. I have certainly noticed this about myself.

Other people will say, "You have been through a great deal, give yourself a break." But it angers me. I want to be where *I* WANT TO BE. I am driven by the same goals and dreams that I always was. I don't WISH to modify it. I wish to push through and be a success. I wish for the picket fence and 2.5. Yet I have already had that explode and shatter and shatter and shatter.

Part of me wants to say, when can you give up that dream? When can you just be happy because? I asked someone today, when have you been content? And he replied, "never, I am a shark, I must always be moving." And oddly- I used to be him! I never used to stop and congratulate myself or let myself BE HAPPY or content or feel REAL JOY. I never celebrated. This person and I have much in common in our drive and how we view life.

But today I told him many tales of how much happiness I have had in my life. Moments of friendship and connection and teaching and gratitude and even times with my ex when I have been blissfully happy. And I realized that watching my friends die and watching people reassess their values from illness and loss has given me a gift far greater than I even knew until right now in my life. THIS has been a great gift.

I know in my heart how valuable people are. And I know know how valuable life is. And I know how short it is. And I know we all deserve each other at our very best. And that always means kindness when we can and forgiveness and honesty and integrity. All the inner qualities that MATTER TO ME. This is how I know that what I am doing IS WORTH SOMETHING. That what I will leave behind in this life COUNTS. It has meaning. I am living. I have a life. I am doing my very best with what I was given. And I mess up and that is OK. And I am not always happy. And that is ok. But I have gratitude. And my wealth is in my friendships and love and the experiences I have been given. And someday - someday even wisdom as I reflect.

People matter. I matter. You matter. WE MATTER. This matters.